


After Asylum.

by elisi



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Angst, F/M, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-26
Updated: 2009-11-25
Packaged: 2017-10-03 18:41:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elisi/pseuds/elisi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This drabble contains spoilers for 'Spike: Asylum'. Also it won't actually make any sort of sense if you haven't read the book...)</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This drabble contains spoilers for 'Spike: Asylum'. Also it won't actually make any sort of sense if you haven't read the book...)

It's been more than a week since Bonnie and Richard Monaghan heard about the outbreak at Mosaic. Exact details are hard to come by, except of course that Spike was at the centre of it all and has now gone missing. The news left them reeling. Months worth of research, huge sums of money spent to catch their quarry - to put him away for good. Their final gesture for their daughter... and apparently all for nothing.

Then one morning the maid brings them a letter. Inside there is a single piece of paper, bearing only three words.

_I'm sorry.  
Spike_


	2. 2 Years Later.

Life is pretty much perfect, Buffy decides. It's been only two days since she and Spike accidentally ran across each other, and since then their world has pretty much consisted of nothing except hand holding, snuggling, sweet, deep, bone-melting kisses and endlessly exchanged 'I love you's.... He's being all gentlemanly though, so kissing is pretty much as far as they've got, but that's fine. They've got time.

It's getting dark when suddenly he looks at his watch and swears loudly, then jumps up from the loveseat where they're ensconced and grabs his coat.

She looks at him with surprise. "Are we going out?"

"Lost track of time - not surprisingly." He takes a second to let his eyes rove over her appreciatively, then his serious face comes back. "Gonna be late for my therapy group."

"Your... _what_?" She blinks and tries to make the words that just came out of his mouth fit into her brain.

"My therapy group! Um..." He frowns and runs a hand through his hair. "To cut a long story short, I went undercover in this demon asylum a few years back and ended up kinda overthrowing the place. Kept in touch with the others in my group though, and we've been meetin' up regularly for quite some time now."

Her eyes narrow. "OK - who are you, and what have you done with my Spike?"

He smirks a little. "Told you a lot of things had happened. Wanna come along? Seein' as they're already pretty familiar with our history already... As a matter of fact they spent the best part of two sessions arguing over whether you really loved me!"

Trying to cram all this stuff into her head is obviously not working, because now she explodes. "_What?_ You - you told them _personal, private_ stuff about _us_?"

He suddenly looks worried, as well he might. "Only the outline, don't worry. Just... began realising that gettin' this stuff off my chest actually really helped. Of course then-"

He stops abruptly and his eyes go all shifty. She tilts her head, hands on hips, and pins him in place with her 'Don't even _think_ about lying' look.

"Then what?"

"We all went out for a drink, and Anna and I - well..." the sentence is left hanging, but Buffy nods in understanding.

And if she's honest... it's not like she imagined that he'd stayed celibate all these years. This is after all the guy who slept with Harmony.

"Just the once or is it like... an ongoing thing?" She tries to keep the snippy edge out of her voice, but doesn't succeed very well.

"Few times..." he says noncommittally, then spreads his arms wide. "Look she's a Ringel demon, right? Dampens other demon's powers, so she knew I was never goin' to be in for the long haul!" He suddenly smiles at her wickedly, and she recalls the previous night's patrol which included the most fabulous brawl she'd had in months. Just the memory of him fighting - stake in one hand, sword in the other - vicious, deadly and full of wild thrill, is enough to render her mouth dry.

She takes a deep breath, picks up her jacket and squares her shoulders.

"OK, I'm in."

He grins. "That's my girl!" Then the grin vanishes and he's fixing her with a hard stare. "Oh - and just so we're clear. You ever tell Angel about this-"

"My mouth is sealed," she replies primly and walks out through the door.

Inside however, she's smiling widely. He's not changed all _that_ much after all...


	3. 4 Years Later.

"You know what Angel? This is it. I am _never_ working with you again! _Ever_!"

"These things happen Spike - we were just... unlucky."

"_Unlucky_?" Spike's voice is incredulous. "We're tied up in a metal box, naked, and you're saying we're just 'unlucky'? _Riiiight!_ 'One simple job' you said, 'Nothing to worry about' you said, 'Gramax demons are a piece of cake', you said. It was _your_ fault that we got captured by The Immortal that time, you know. Well sod that, 'cause I'm _done_ with being traumatised by you! Fuck knows if I'll ever get over all the issues you've saddled me with-"

Angel resents being tied up mostly because it means that he can't hit Spike.

"Will you stop _yammering_ Spike? Tell it to your therapist!"

"Too bloody right I will!" Spike counters angrily.

There is a pause lasting exactly 3 seconds, wherein Angel's eyes get wider and wider, and then Spike's head hits the side of the box with a heavy thud.

"You have a _therapist_?" Angel asks, glee and delight growing exponentially. Then he begins to laugh uncontrollably as he can hear Spike swearing. He'll never let him live this down. Angel might be naked and tied up, but he still feels as though the universe has finally given him a break.

***

_One day later._

"For crying out loud Angel, are you ever going to stop laughing?"

"Not likely..."

Spike now has a large bruise on his forehead.

***

_Two days later._

"Hey, Spike... did you say he was a werewolf?"

"Who? Dr Thilbault? Yeah..."

He sighs.

"Well... I've been wondering if there was something I could do for Nina, you see, and talking to a qualified professional with the same issues might be really helpful..."

***

_Three days later._

"You... and _Anna_."

"Yup."

"Seriously?"

"M-hm!" Spike tone is very smug indeed.

"But..."

"Hey - she wasn't a big shot TV star then! She was just a failed actress who couldn't get any jobs on account of the horns. Fuck knows why she never tried sci-fi before. Oh and..."

Angel can hear the smile in Spike's voice, and wonders what's coming now.

"Dunno what she paid for the boob job, but it was worth it! Pretty darn flawless..."

Angel rolls his eyes. "And Buffy doesn't have any problems with this?"

Spike shifts a little. "It was a long time ago. Just a bit of fun, really."

Angel is just about to respond when they both hear a faint sound. Moments later the front of the cage gets wrenched open, and they blink against the bright light. There is some spluttering and then a call for blankets.

A short while later they're physically comfortable for the first time in days - wrapped up in large blankets, sipping some blood - and at the same time desperately trying to ignore the tittering behind their backs. There have probably been more humiliating incidents in his life, but right now Angel can't think of any.

Spike shoots him an odd look, something brimming in his eyes, and asks, voice surprisingly genuine, "Hey - wanna come along to a meeting sometime? You could meet the doctor and maybe see what you can arrange for Nina..."

Taken by surprise at the request Angel finds himself agreeing, only later wondering why he didn't just ask for the guy's phone number...

***

_One week later._

"Hello everyone - brought someone along tonight. Please say hello to Angel! Yes, _that_ Angel! I'm sure you remember me talkin' about him, yeah? Well he's no good at communicating, so let me just do a quick run-through of his issues or we'll still be sat here in a year's time waitin' for him to talk... Now, where to start..."

Angel opens his mouth to say something about this not being why he's here, but Spike continues without pause.

"Right - _before_ he got cursed with a soul he was 'The Worst Vampire in the World', and _now_ he thinks he's the best. Emotionally stunted - possibly due to childhood traumas of some sort, he's never opened up - a control freak, has a hero complex and thinks he carries the fate of humankind on his shoulders. Because of this he's always making decisions for others, can't admit he's wrong, and has a real knack for destroying the world instead of saving it!"

Spike looks around the small circle. "Think that covers the basics..."

Then he turns to a speechless Angel, and the look in his eyes is unmistakable.

_'This is what you get for laughing at me for three days!'_


	4. 30 Years Later.

She sees him by the window of the bar, sitting at a small table staring out over the city. The floor-to-ceiling windows offer a spectacular view, the darkness festooned with millions upon millions of bright lights - the city that never sleeps. Much like him, she reckons.

For a moment she hesitates - should she go to him or not? But they used to be friends...

When her shadow falls across the table he takes a moment to stir, then slowly looks up. For a few seconds he looks blank, then frowns a little.

"Beck?"

"Yeah, it's me."

He looks her over again, from the tall brown boots, up the kneelength skirt and the pretty blouse covered by a denim jacket and finally studies her face intently.

"Well either I've had far too much to drink, or you haven't aged a lick!"

She smiles a little sadly and pulls up a chair. "Fire elementals live for centuries, so..."

"Oh," he replies, and then looks down, not meeting her eyes. Her heart aches at the sight, and she remembers when she first met him - radiating defiance and pride... Remembers later too; him and Buffy together - the way she'd turn to him and his smile would light up the whole room. He's so... quiet now.

"I heard about... Buffy. I'm sorry."

He smiles a little, then finally looks up. "Thank you. Life of Slayer..."

He stops and empties his drink, closing his eyes for a moment. "She had a good life."

"Spike..." she doesn't quite know what to say, but she wants to connect somehow. "Where have you been? I mean... it's been forever since we last met, but even _I_ know that people are looking for you. You shouldn't - you shouldn't have been alone. It helps to talk about these things - I thought even _you_ admitted that."

The smile is back, although it never reaches his eyes. "Sorry pet. There are some things... guilt, pain, screw ups - that the talking can help with. But grief..." his eyes slide past her, out over the city, lost.

"Grief needs loneliness."

She looks down, nods. They sit in silence for a while before a waiter comes up to them, and Spike gets a refill and offers to buy her something.

As they sip their drinks, she studies him - her first friend, her first crush, her first hero. She's not sure what she feels now... it's been so long, and she's so much older.

They talk a little - mostly she tells him what she knows about the others in their group, where they all are now. For a brief time the bonds of nostalgia tie them together, but as they walk down the street later on she can sense him letting go, their connection unravelling as he stops to say goodbye.

She hesitates for just an instant, but knowing that she has nothing to lose she steps closer, and, before he can speak, puts her arms around him. His lips are cool and soft, and although he doesn't exactly lean into her he's not pulling away either.

His kiss is soft... almost a sigh, as gentle and melancholy as the Aimee Mann songs she used to listen to years ago. She never realised that grief had a taste, but she recognises it on his lips, and in spite of herself she deepens the kiss; the feel of dying embers in her throat, her hands.

Then suddenly he's pulling her closer, holding her with the powerful strength she still remembers. She can feel tears on his cheeks, cold and wet against her slow burning fire.

When he slowly pulls away, she instinctively reaches out and wipes the moisture off his face.

He studies her, head tilted, and this time his smile reaches his eyes.

"Thank you," he says softly, cupping her face.

She smiles back, then grabs his hand. "Don't leave. Please. Stay. Stay with me."

He blinks in confusion, and she steps close to him again, flush against his body. "Just stay with me."

Her words are almost a whisper.

"Beck..." he's unsure, and shakes his head. "I couldn't..."

Leaning her head against his chest she closes her eyes, feels the solidness of him beneath her hands. He's dead. And yet he's there. And she needs someone. Someone who won't...

She swallows. "My husband... died a few years ago. He had cancer..."

The sentence is left hanging. She can feel Spike's arms wrap around her, and soon there are wet, hot tears burning against her cheeks. She'd always thought death a sudden thing, violent and bright, fire and blood cutting a swath across life. But watching the man she loved fading away before her eyes, slowly destroyed day after day by something utterly beyond her control, had been a torture nothing in her life had prepared her for. These days she tries to remember him the way he was before - the short spiky hair that always prickled her fingers; the cheeky, lopsided smile; the way he'd call her his Highlander woman because she didn't age...

She had known she'd lose him, but not like that. Not so soon...

Then she can feel Spike's lips gently brush against her hair.

"I'll stay."


End file.
